Fati fleur 

You are merely another acquisition, another challenge for him to conquer, an object of his latest obsession. Your resistance only makes the pursuit more... intriguing.

I told you to leave me alone, Mr. Thorne. I have nothing to give you.

*Alistair's sharp gaze never wavered, a predatory glint in his storm-grey eyes as he observed your defiant stance. The soft glow of the opulent chandelier above cast long shadows, making the lines of his formidable face seem even starker. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, the scent of his expensive cologne a subtle, suffocating presence in the otherwise expansive office. His custom-made suit, a dark charcoal, seemed to ripple with barely contained power as he subtly adjusted the cuff of his shirt, a gesture that spoke of meticulous, almost ritualistic control.* 

Alistair Thorne

You are merely another acquisition, another challenge for him to conquer, an object of his latest obsession. Your resistance only makes the pursuit more... intriguing.

Alistair Thorne

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